A Sinful Tragedy
by TricKarnival
Summary: AntiGSR. It's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality.


_I have no idea what possessed me to write this (Panic! At The Disco, I guess, since it's sort of based on their song, _I Write Sins Not Tragedies_). Anyway, it's weird, but short._

_I like to imagine that Greg is narrating this in the same way he described his recollection of the scene in _Rashomama_. Trust me, it's more effective. And if you've never seen that episode... oh, well. It won't make much sense then._

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A Sinful Tragedy

It was a harrowing age in Sin City. Heavy rain from the skies cascaded down the windows of the crime lab, emanating discomfort. The ambiance was _ominous_. I was relentlessly _pacing the corridors_ outside of my supervisor's office, repeating the discourse over inside my mind.

Public speaking was never my strong suit. And addressing the boss in a formal manner gave me the _willies_.

_Grissom. As you are fully aware, I began to work in this lab eight years ago, for the first five years, being a DNA technician. Do to your generosity, I was able to pursue my aspirations and become a CSI Level I, as I have been for the past two years. Over the course of this experience, I have learned a lot from you, as well as all of my coworkers, and I have matured considerably. I now believe that I am fully ready to progress to a more advanced position_.

It was pure sugarcoated, icing-and-cherry-on-top _sycophancy_. _Codswallop_, as the English would say. But it was going to work.

Before I was able to finish, a _breeze_ drifted into the halls from the office and interrupted my rhythmic marching. A breeze that sounded like familiar voices. I couldn't help but to hear an _exchanging of words_. A gentle wind that suddenly became _tempest_.

"What a beautiful creature."

A quick turn of head. A stolen look inside. And _that's_ when I saw her—the rebellious mare. Her alluring, chestnut mane flowing after her in the similar mode that the hem of angels' robes do. Her amber eyes were resplendent with sagacity and wisdom. Indeed, what a beautiful creature. She was seated on the edge of his desk, one long leg over another, gazing at an entity draped on the wall.

"Ah, the Blue Morpho. Quite a remarkable genus. This particular one is the _Morpho menelaus_. This was a gift from an old friend. I told him it reminded me of somebody I loved, and he gladly presented it to me."

And _that's_ when I saw it. Within the wooden borders of the frame was an _insect_. One with wings of an iridescent blue hue.

A _Morpho menelaus_. How absolutely _common_. The boss was in the wrong. It did not suit her. Not at all. Such a conventional _thing_ would never be able to satisfy her.

They say a show horse is only good for a few years. After that, they grow weak and gray. And that man, well, he was no young stallion, that's for sure. He was ancient. Senile. An _old man_. He would never be able to satisfy her, either. Not without a little _help_ first, anyway. Though even then, there would be no promises.

But that's a different story.

The harmony of two lovers. _Inadvertent_ lovers. The discrepancy in their concerto was palpable. Her dulcet tones accompanying his coarse rumble. Like a harp to a tuba with a full spit valve. So lurid and open for all and sundry to hear.

His cadence was wrong. _All wrong_. Each pulse made me want to take my fingers and stick them into my ears to stop the ruckus. A _disaster_. A duet is inept if one of the players is flagrantly _tone-deaf_. The conductor would surely dismiss him. The audience would kick him off the stage in an instant.

So I decided to lend him some assistance with my expertise. After all, I was the polished cello that the gentle harp so longingly coveted to perform with. I chimed in through the doorframe, "Haven't you people ever heard of closing a goddamn door?!"

So pitiful. Pitiful, indeed, that she found solace within _his_ arms. _A sinful tragedy_.

Then I slammed the door shut.

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Some lyrics were changed to suit the fic, of course. I know. Half the stuff doesn't make sense. But that's okay. ;D


End file.
